Friday

Called Olga to see if she wanted to go out, but she was getting on a plane to San Blas where the three fisherman recently rescued from the Pacific Ocean are expected to return today. The Mexican government has reversed* its earlier hasty decision to investigate the vast disparity between the men's version of events and what friends and family back home are saying. Fearless reporters will investigate, though. And meet Tropical Storm Ernesto, recently upgraded from a numbered depression.* It's fifty/fifty whether Ernesto will become a hurricane over this weekend. Current warm water conditions favor it, but there's a low pressure shear that could slow the necessary drop in central pressure. We'll know by Monday, although Gulf oil distilleries are nervous, and prices are rising.* Fridays tend to be slow days around here: Sunshine likes to bask in the onset of her weekend. My only story is about yesterday. Back when we hired the neighborhood crew to look after our yard, the guy we hired was Hector. He and his crew came around once every third week to make sure the place looked tidy, doing a community a day all around Valle Oriente. As time went on I started seeing Hector less and less. For the majority of this year, his right hand man (whose name I don't know) has been working, often alone, on our yard. I like this guy and often find myself trying desperately to talk to him in tortured Spanish: I owe you for two weeks, It looks like it's going to rain, No I really do water the grass. Awkward, but hey, it's an accomplishment when he understands me. Yesterday he said "sorry I'm so late, but I figured I'd better get this done before the storm hit" in perfectly good English. [Cavin]